RELEASE THE CLOWNS

After the cocaine addled GORILLA bashed your face in with a decorative boulder, you got up and cleaned yourself up. The sauna was a fucking mess, with GORILLA shit all over your prized wooden walls and floors. Looking at the mess, you simply needed to unwind a bit, sort of “get away from the world.” The only logical thing to do was lock up the house and head for the carnival.

On your way to the carnival, listening to bloomberg radio, you heard the market was losing steam. As predicted by yourself and the “team” at Zerohedge, investors were selling into strength. Aside from the giant gash on your brain, you were delighted.

You reached the carnival and parked the car right next to the cotton candy vendor. You always liked cotton candy, especially the pink colored version. Before locking up the car, you popped the trunk and fetched a chilled bottle of chardonnay, with glass, in order to “get your carnival on” in style. With chardonnay glass in hand and pink cotton candy in mouth, like a vagabond, you gallivanted inside the effervescent and whimsical carnival.

As you wandered out from a funhouse filled with retarded mirrors, while noshing on buttery popcorn, you gazed upon a clown doing magic tricks. As you approached said clown, you realized, much to your dismay, he wasn’t an ordinary clown. In fact, he was a homeless man pulling shit out from his hat, laughing hysterically in a crack-cocain infused fury. You tried to get away; but it was too late.

The crackhead clown detected your weakness and ran after you, full speed. Upon tackling you to the ground, he licked your face and drank your wine. He screamed at you in an undetectable language, then slapped you twice with his shit filled hands, one front-hand, the other back-hand.